The Corner Kids Crew
by my black crimson rose
Summary: Everything was great in elementary school, everything was just fantastic. Middle school, not so much. And High School... everything seems to be going down hill in High School- real quickly. [trigger warnings for Chapter 2, until then its just a cute little Christmas story][An adventure into self discovery]
1. As kids everything's fine

Mr. Ozpin taught the fourth grade, while Miss Glynda taught the fifth grade. They were neighbours in the school and close friends. Each year the Beacon Elementary School would force each class to perform in front of the school in the Christmas Concert. The winners would throw a class party with pizza and a movie. This year Mr. Ozpin and Miss Glynda's class combined to form one mega class, in an effort to eliminate the other classes.

Adam thought the Christmas Concert was a joke. Everyone knew that the kindergartens or Mr. Bartholomew's sixth grade class always won. The kindergartens had that cuteness, and the sixth graders had superior knowledge and technology. And Adam wasn't the only one that thought this was all a joke. His friends Roman, Cinder, Junior, and the twins Melanie and Miltia agreed.

Miss Glynda had instructed them to take out a piece of paper and write any ideas that they had to do for their piece. Adam rolled his eyes at Roman; the orange haired boy snickered back at him. After writing ten ideas down on their list the class could be dismissed for early recess, but only when all of them were finished. Glynda had stared at the group in the corner with hardened eyes.

"Stupid," Cinder hissed under her breath as she pressed down hard on her pencil as she wrote. With that said the group wrote down the first ten things that they could think off, it was half assed but they did finish first and it wasn't like they cared.

They lounged around waiting for the rest of the class to finish. When Miss Glynda gave them the all the clear, The Corner Kids Crew all but threw themselves out of the classroom and into their snow gear before tearing down the hall.

Freedom. Good ol' extended recess. The time were kids will be kids and snow forts were the coolest things the world. The Corner Kids (Roman, Cinder, Adam, Junior, and the twins) quickly created the foundation of their snow fort; the kids from Mrs. Molly's fifth grade class wouldn't stand a chance this recess! The bell rang, signally the start of recess and their fort walls stood at waist high—Junior's waist high. Junior was the tallest of the Corner Kids Crew, the heaviest as well.

"Incoming," Miltia said quietly directed to Adam. The red haired boy glanced up from the snowball that he was working on. They were beginning to supply themselves with ammo, just waiting for the December 15th Snowball War to begin. The Corner Kids Crew would be victorious!

"Adam!" a black haired girl called out as she stumbled through the snow. A huge grin on her face as her two other friends stumbled behind her. Running in snow was annoying, it liked to squish around in the weirdest ways and other times you could trip over just when you thought that you stepped on solid ground. And that's what she did; the black haired girl face planted in the snow.

"Blake!" Adam shouted running out of the fort towards her. His friends laughed loudly behind him. The girl sat up, snow sticking to her nose and cheeks. Adam bit the finger of one of his gloves pulling it off before beginning to brush the snow off her face. "You should be more careful," he scolded his warm fingers taking off the last off the snow.

Blake frowned, "I didn't do it on purpose," she said pouting. Her face red from the snow and embarrassment as Adam's friends continued laughing. "I wanted to play with you," she said looking away from the older kids and at Adam.

Adam and Blake grew up neighbours from across the road. Her mother would watch Adam after school until his Aunt would come home and she would see him the next morning where he would walk with her to school. The two of them were close. Her mother would often joke that one day she and Adam would get married—if Blake had it her way. Blake overheard Adam's Aunt agreeing saying that Adam was "just smitten with her" and that it was always "Blake this, or Blake that." Blake didn't believe them, they were silly adults after all there was no way that Adam liked her liked her.

"No babies allowed!" Melanie shouted, a chorus of yeah's following. Adam frowned looking back at his friends' then back to Blake.

"Then Adam will come play with us!" Yang shouted back stopping beside her kneeling friend her younger sister Ruby halting beside her.

Melanie's cheeks puffed out, "You can't take Adam we need him to defeat Mrs. Molly's grade five class!"

Ruby crossed her arms over her puffy red jacket, "then let us play or we'll drag him off!" she yelled. Cinder and Melanie's eyes narrowed at the third grader.

"Fine, but don't start crying if you get hit in the face with a snowball!"

—

Blake threw the blanket off her loft bed and into Adam's arms. They began to tie it around her bed posts and stuffing it under her mattress. Once that was completed both Adam and she crawled into what they liked to call Their Nest where they gathered blankets, pillows and her two beanbag chairs to create. They wrapped the last blanket (that wasn't being used as part of the nest or the walls surrounding the nest) over their bodies and ducked their heads underneath.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her nose in his neck, Adam wrapped his arms around her in return. "Why are your friends so mean to me?" she whispered nuzzling further against his neck.

He blushed remembering some of the things they send once they all dragged themselves into the school after recess. "Adam has a girlfriend, Adam has a girlfriend~" they had teased, Melanie had poked his red cheeks as Roman called him out for blushing.

"They're doing it because they know it bothers me." Blake stared up at him her large golden eyes wavering; she didn't say anything for a long time. Enough time for him to being to flush darkly and his friends teasing to return to his thoughts. Blake wasn't hisgirlfriend. They've never even kissed!

That's what boyfriends and girlfriends did, right? They kissed and held hands and blushed at each other. Right?

Blake chewed on her lip; she was going to do it! No holding back! She'll just lean in and lay one on him. And she did. Blake dove in, kissing the boy quickly her eyes closed tightly and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Her eyes fluttered open as she leaned away, her heart in her throat as she gaged his reaction.

Adam sat stunned, blinking owlishly in his shock. His cheeks aflame, holy shit. Yes Adam had just though those words and it was the only thing he was thinking. He couldn't say anything, didn't move. He felt so light, his heart beating a mile a minute. He nearly felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach with it beating so quickly.

"Adam, you're Aunt's here for you!" Blake's mother called up the stairs. That snapped him out of his thoughts. He pulled the covers off of the both of them, his hair sticking up in an array of positions as he climbed out of their nest and under the blanket wall. His cheeks still stained red from the kiss. He even jogged from the room and down the stairs, leaving Blake to run after him.

She caught up with him just as he was stepping into his boots. "Adam," she whined. The boy hit his face in the neck of his sweater. The women shook their heads, chuckling at the children. They had a feeling of what had just transpired. Adam's Aunt bid the Belladonna's goodnight, Adam mumbling along with her with his mouth hidden by his jacket cheeks still pink.

—

"Boys are silly, darling. Adam will come around, don't you worry." Her mother closed her door with that, finally bidding her daughter goodnight. Her husband raised his brow at her, "she's just having boy trouble." The woman slowly began to walk down the stairs, her husband frozen at the top.

"No. Nono," he hissed his feet thundering down the stairs to catch up to his wife, "Blake's too young to be having boy troubles. I thought we agreed Blake's not to have anything to do with boys until she's twenty five!" His voice panicked, just thinking about his darling daughter in the clutches of some boy. No boy would ever be good enough for his baby girl!

His wife laughed at him patting his arm, "I'll like to see you try to keep her away from Adam."

—

Mr. Ozpin and Miss Glynda had settled with the age old classic of A Christmas Carol (a shortened addition), much to the groaning and moaning from The Corner Kids Crew. The fourth graders had piled in Miss Glynda's class, taking a seat in the open space on the floor. Blake and Yang had sat closer to Adam and his friends, Melanie and Junior had leaned over to whisper "Adam has a girlfriend" in his ear. His face had erupted in a pink flush, it kept getting darker every time Blake would look up at him to smile.

"We need to choose who's going to be whom, anyone have a character they want to be?" Mr. Ozpin questioned, writing the characters on the board.

Cinder raised her hand high, Miss Glynda pointed to her. "I vote Adam and Blake as Young Scrooge and Belle!" Adam's face darkened to the colour of his hair as he shot a dark look. All his friends were against him.

"Roman for Scrooge then," Adam countered. If they were going to be like that, than he'd see to it that his friends have to suffer along with him.

—

The Corner Kids Crew had all gotten speaking roles in the play. Cinder had gotten her way with Adam and Blake playing the young couple. And in return Adam had insured that Roman had gotten the position of Scrooge. Blake's friend Yang scored the role of the Ghost of Christmas Past, and their class had voted for Junior to play the Ghost of Christmas Present.

Junior had begged and pleaded to not get the part, but everyone had agreed that he would be perfect for the role. He was the jolliest looking one out of the group after all.

The twins became two of the Cratichit children, with one of the boys from Mr. Ozpin's class staring as Tiny Tim. And Cinder as Mrs. Cratchit, boy had she ever made a fuss out of that one. Much to the amusement of the class.

—

They practiced a lot during that time, going over lines and lines of dialogue. Those that didn't have any roles were casted as extras and stage crew. They had gathered costumes and planned music. During the gym time they would set up the stage and run through the play, over and over again. They were going to win this year, not those grade sixes and not those kindergartens! They would get that party with the free food and the day off all things school related.

Of course, that is until some bright student thought it would be more realistic if Blake and Adam actually kissed. Blake agreeing whole heartedly—it was just another reason to kiss Adam again. The boy, on the other hand froze at the suggestion a blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. When he said he wasn't going to kiss her, Blake's eyes watered and the class began to chant "kiss her, kiss her!"

The blush darkened as the chanting grew louder, the teachers trying to silence the children. Adam ground his teeth together, finally having enough of it as he succumbed to peer pressure. He leaned over to the girl beside him and smushed their lips together quickly. Just to stop the crowd.

—

The day of the concert came and went A Christmas Carol hadn't won—the singing of tiny children in reindeer and elf costumes won the crowd over. Damn kindergarteners and their tiny faces. But the two teachers had agreed that they'll throw their class a combined Christmas party, were the students could bring treats from home as they watched a movie of their choice.

Yang and Blake had joined The Corner Kids Crew during the movie, Blake holding Adam's hand tightly in hers. She was finally starting to understand what her Mom said about boys being silly. She knew Adam liked her, Adam knew that she liked him, and everyone knew that they liked each other. But still his face would flush and he would shy away whenever she would go to kiss him, or when someone would tease him about their relationship.

But that was okay, she wasn't going to go anywhere.


	2. Cut me Open

He stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, forcing the blood out from his veins. It dripped down his arms and over his hands, through his fingers and down onto the floor of the tub. It was easier to clean this way—no one would be the wiser. He grabbed the bottle of vodka from the lip of the bathtub, taking a sip before pouring a fair bit on each arm and taking another sip before setting it back down on the tub. It stung fiercely, but he wasn't looking to kill himself with them.

At least not yet.

He began to wrap them up again, the white bandage darkening as the blood soaked through. He took care of them—made sure that they didn't get infected. That's one thing he wouldn't want; after doing this for so long without getting caught and no one questioning him why he wore long sleeves, sweaters or jackets anymore. Even when they knew he ran hotter than a lot of other people. He would tell them its comfort, and it was in a way. It was a comfort in knowing that he could cover them with these shirts—even when he worked out.

When he played sports he could wear the underarmor shirt and no one would bat an eye at it. He just had to remember not to cut a few days before a game. All the physical contact and the flexing and jolting of his arms would open up the cuts at the worst of times.

"Adam," his Aunt knocked on the bathroom door. The teenager jerked out of his thoughts and stared at the door in horror—did he remember to lock the door? "Roman's downstairs, do you want me to tell him to wait in your room?" She inquired. Adam nodded, his heart in his throat.

He remembered that his Aunt couldn't see him after a second of silence from her end, "yeah I'll be right out," he cleared his throat. He turned the tap with a jerk of his wrists and the water came rushing out. The water gathering around his feet was red and he jerked his feet back and forth. He washed his hands at the same time, rinsing the blood and vodka from his hands.

He'd have to take a shower later tonight then to make sure to get everything, this right now was mostly to make sure that no one caught him right now. He grabbed his black towel, it was the first thing he learned if he was going to do this always towel yourself off with something dark just in case you missed a little bit of blood. He dried off his legs and feet, followed by his hands. The water was still running as he stepped into his pants again, and throwing the long sleeved shirt on again.

He glanced down at his switchblade, then towards the tub. The blood was almost gone, and he had already cleaned off the blade. He grabbed the knife, pocketing it before stuffing the bandages back under the skin and hanging his towel back up. He slowly twisted the knob, his other hand pushing the remaining bloody water to the drain.

He waited until everything went down, checking the tub again before deeming it clean. He toweled off his hands again before opening the door with a bottle of vodka in one hand and the pressure of a switchblade in his pocket. "Hey man, what's up?" he nodded at the orange haired teen.

Roman stared at him, his eyes narrowing at his hair and then at the rest of his appearance. Adam ground his teeth under his gaze, he huffed as he turned around to dig through his dresser on the opposite side of the room. Roman's favourite spot to sit was in his computer chair, the computer desk and double monitor taking up a huge section of his room. "I had long talk with Blake after school today," he said, the computer chair creaking as he shifted.

Adam placed the bottle on top of his dresser, the knife still weighing heavily in his pocket. "And what did she say?" he turned to face his friend slowly. This whole situation was setting off redflags, and he felt himself bristle and tense in reaction—in preparation from what might come.

Roman stood, taking a step towards Adam, "she mentioned something that we've all been noticing for a long time now, but never really mentioned. She said you winced when she grabbed your arm last week, after that big home game. Remember that?"

Adam ground his teeth, yeah he remembered that. Of course he would remember that.

He and Blake had had a falling out around middle school, and they both kinda just drifted apart. Both of them were trying to figure who they were as people, and in that process they kinda left the other behind. In High School they were awkward around each other, everyone mentioned that. They liked to bring up that one Christmas play that they did in grade school where they kissed. Adam would still feel his heart quicken at that, the feelings for Blake never quiet leaving him as much as he would like. No matter how many other girls he's dated, kissed, or had sex with.

This was his last year of high school, and he kept thinking of ways that he could ask her out to prom. And that day he had stumbled into her in the halls, it wasn't even the end of November and the seniors (and a few Juniors) were already talking about prom and what they would do, who they would go with, what they'd wear. She was with her friends when he overheard Yang mention the possibility of Junior taking her to prom, Ruby had piped in saying that maybe Adam would take Blake.

The brunette had laughed and informed them that they'd most likely only be going as friends if that were the case. He has ground his teeth at that and moved to turn around and go back the way he came; he had decided this a little too late. The girls had spotted him and Blake came running after him. She had grabbed his arm.

"Yeah I remember," he replied teeth grinding against each other as he stared back at the orange haired teen. Roman's gaze lowered to his left arm before glancing back up at Adam's face, "what the fuck are you looking at?" Adam growled out noticing the change in his friend's body posture and the flicker in his eyes.

"Show me your arms," Roman demanded not looking away from Adam's face now. The orange haired senior stood squared up much like Adam, he's been friends with Adam for long enough—he was the new holder of Adam's longest and best friend (seeing that Blake and Adam weren't really but kinda, sorta friends. They weren't completely sure themselves)—to know when Adam was squaring up for a fight and there was no way out of it.

Roman was his friend, and he was in it for the long haul god damn it!

"Suck a dick," Adam hissed back at him. That's when Roman dove towards him, his shoulders knocking into Adam's chest and pushed him until they both toppled over onto the bed in a loud bang. The movement knocked the air from his lungs, and he groaned as Roman's elbow dug into his ribs and pushed. No matter how much muscles Roman put on, his elbows were always extremely boney—it was painful.

Roman pushed up the sleeve of Adam's shirt, the blood staining the once white bandages a dark pink, almost a red now. "Shit," he cursed with wide eyes staring at the stains.

Adam flipped their positions, the arm that Roman was just staring at pressing against his neck and collar bone as he pinned him against the bed. "You don't say a fucking thing," he snarled, adding more pressure to the arm against Roman's neck. "Don't you dare say anything to my Aunt or to Blake—" The door of his bedroom opened and his Aunt stepped in, her expression worried. The commotion that the two high school seniors were making most likely captured her attention.

"What is that?" she said, eyes focused on the bandage around Adam's arm. Adam stood, rolling down his sleeve in all one movement. She stepped into the room, "Adam what the hell is on your arm?" her voice raised in panic.

His pulse roared in his ears as his Aunt approached him, "It's nothing Aunt Claire." He winced to himself, that was a horrible lie. He normally came up with lies way better than that—this one was just screaming that something was wrong and that was the last thing he wanted. Everything was going just fine, why did Blake have to mention something to Roman and why did Roman have to come here to have this little chat?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck FUCK!

God fucking damn it!

She gripped his arm, and rolled up the sleeve as he panicked silently. He wanted to push her away, throw her if need be. His muscles flinched to do just that, but his mind screamed at him to stop. To remember just who this woman was—this was his Aunt, the woman that raised him. So he stood there as she grabbed his arm, raising it to her eye level and pulled the shirt down to his elbow. He stood there in silence as her eyes watered and her face went stern. "Roman, grab his wallet" her voice was chilled and harsh, her grip tightening as she pulled him out of his room and towards the front door. "Put your shoes on," she said slipping into her own shoes. He did what he was told, stepping into his Vans.

Roman locked the door behind him, following both of them into the elevator then out into the parking lot. The ride down was filled with silence, tension and an overall feeling of _I should've waited until his Aunt left to have this conversation_. But she had the right to know—she was his Aunt, Adam's only next of kin left. When they got to the car, Claire had _stuffed_ him into the passenger seat while Roman silently sat in the back behind Adam.

Both teenagers had no clue where they were going as the woman started the car with a sharp twist of her wrist and jerk of her arm.

"Where are we going?" Adam questioned, his Aunt reclaiming her hold on his arm. She didn't reply; Adam ground his teeth and digging his knuckles against his forehead in annoyance.

In the back seat Roman pulled up a text conversation with the group (plus Blake).

"**Its done.**"—Roman

The phone lit up in his hands moments later, **"What happened? How is he?"**—Blake replied, Cinder adding a couple of question marks.

"**His Aunt freaked out. She's been extremely quiet, we're both in the car with her. Adam's pissed and I may walk out of here with only a few bruises."** And maybe an unfriending, Roman added to himself. It was hard to say if Adam would forgive him later for this, he certainly hopped so. They were his friends and family they had every right to have this conversation with him.

Weighbridge Hospital.

The reaction from Adam was instantaneous. The redhead panicked, his free arm latching onto the door handle. Roman understood why he was accompanying them now—Adam had a fear of hospitals. His parents died on the way to a hospital, his uncle died in a hospital. Even though Claire worked as a nurse at this very hospital, it did nothing to numb the fear and panic. Roman grabbed Adam's hand and squeezed it when he tried to unlock the door.

"Adam," Claire hushed, "Honey, we're only here to make sure you don't need medical help. If you don't fight I'll talk to the doctor and insure that you don't have to stay here under suicide watch. Calm down," she whispered as she pulled into a parking spot.

Calm down? How the fuck did she expect him to calm down?! Adam's body shook and shuttered, he was tempted to just slam his elbow through the window. Everything felt wonky, tilted—he felt like he was submerged, the weight of the water pressing down on him from every side. His best friend had a death grip on his hand while his aunt held his other one—both of their grip tight, constricting. Trapping him, vision blurring around the edge as his breath quickened. Today wasn't supposed to be like this.

It was just going to be a normal day, he'd actually do some homework tonight... maybe finish that book that he had to read for class even. But no, no no. Adam's friends and family cornered him and tricked him. And as much as that direction of thoughts seemed pathetic and stupid in his head, it was true. It hit multiple cords and it stung. God, did it ever sting. He was so out of it that he didn't notice the car parking and his aunt leaving the car, nor when Roman followed her. The panicked teen freaked out, his mind shutting down but still overworking itself. He didn't feel Roman's hands wrap around his arm. His door now wide open, and the other teen was trying to talk to him. Adam stared at his lips, brows creased. The orange haired teenager spoke his name, repeating it... over and over again.

Nothing.

Adam body just shook, his eyes darting from subject to subject. Refusing to even look at Roman—and that's what stung. His best friend, so out of it that he had sent himself into such a panic. Unable to to even look at him. Roman's eyes dropped to the bandages wrapped around his friend's wrists; it felt like all the trust that they had built up since grade school had shattered.

But what he was doing was right—he was helping him, god damn it!

It was then when Adam had another panic attack, the fifth one that Roman had seen him have. But this was the first time it was just Adam and him. The other times Cinder (or Blake those many many years ago) was there to rest a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him to their person. They had worked on distracting him and comforting. But Roman didn't know what to do, not after watching his friend grip his own hair and curling into himself. Adam's forehead pressed against his knees as he shook and chocked as he tried to suck in oxygen.

"Adam," Roman spoke again his hand shaking as he touched his friend's head running his hand down to the base of his neck. "Everything's alright, I'm right here. We're not going anywhere, we're still in the car." Roman just talked, his voice havering at times as he tried to remain calm. He wasn't sure if it was working, but Adam wasn't about to pass out so he considered it an improvement. Adam's aunt returned then.

With a wheelchair... and a needle.

Adam didn't even feel the prick, only the sensation of a sudden and unnatural calm. He had snapped his head up at the feeling, eyes drooping. They drugged him, he concluded feeling hands lift him from the car seat and sit him into a wheelchair. He saw a swirl of orange before nothing. He felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing.

For nearly ten hours.

He'd woken up in his bed, mouth dry and limbs heavy. They knew, they all fucking knew. And they sent him home so he wouldn't have another stupid freak out. He had rolled out of his bed slowly, or as quickly as his sluggish limbs would allow. On his feet his balance was shot, limbs heavy and soar as he moved them. He felt a sudden rage creep up slowly, it felt like it began in his gut as it turned the drugs and the panic (and the sudden change from panic attack to nothing) gave him a woozy feeling. The anger make the tips of his fingers tingle. In a second he he had his phone in hand, in the next it stuck out of the wall and swept two glasses from his desk. The other, the third, he had thrown against the far side of his room shattering it.

"I'm fine," he hissed out between clenched teeth and arms folded over his chest. His aunt sat beside him looking between him and the therapist. The woman had insisted that his aunt join him, to watch their interactions or some stupid shit like that. His aunt had answered questions that the woman had directed to the pair of them, had voiced her concerns and what she thinks.

After he had awoken yesterday and threw a _fit_, his Aunt and friends had sat him down. Urging him to talk to them, and that they loved him—that they were here for him. He had scoffed pawing at his football jacket thrown over the back of the couch before throwing it at Roman. _"Give that back to Coach," _was the only thing he had said during those hours. He did it in spite, to gain back some control over himself and his own life. Screw the scholarships, screw the team, and the games. Just fuck it all, he was done. Done.

"Those cuts on your arms tell a different story," the woman replied, resting an elbow on the arm of her chair. "What I see is an angry young man on a self destructive path, pushing everyone who means something to him away because he's hiding something. Adam, we're all here to help you. So let us help," she weaved her fingers together over her lap.

He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. "I don't need help," he replied back, stressing every word. He leaned back again, arms returning to their position over his chest. He didn't want their help, didn't need help to begin with. He was fine, he was just fine before. Why the fuck was people making such a fucking huge deal about all this shit? Just a couple of scratches, the stitches weren't necessary either. He's done worse than that and he healed just fine!

It was a few more days before his aunt put him back in school. Every time he heard a student call his name he ignored it, not wanting to talk to them. Not even feeling anything towards wanting social interaction. Just nothing. Blake and her friends had seen him, and in return he found her too. She lifted a hand in his direction, mouth open to say something as she took a step towards him. His gut soured, teeth grinding automatically before turning away.

Fuck 'em.

Fuck school.

Fuck this city.

Fuck this stupid life.

He was getting out of there. He had enough cash on his person to take a cab out of the city, he had enough for saved up for a shitty little motel room somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time that he had just up and left. Back in middle school he had done it a few times—it was an art form that he's perfected by now. So that's what he did, as the bell rang and the swarm of student began pushing their ways through the halls and filing into tiny classrooms Adam left the school building. His bag filled with his gym clothes, sweater and lunch hanging off one shoulder as he walked a towards the downtown core.

From there it didn't take long to flag down a cabbie, "visiting my girlfriend out of town. The 'rents aren't supposed to know," he lied when the cabbie threw him an odd look when he told him where to go. The cabbie had chuckled winking at him as he fell for it. It was so easy by now, just running away and never going back. But he had always came back, ran away for a week or so. A few times during the summer it was longer. His aunt had thought he was at Roman's, and Adam had called and texting her everyday to keep her off his back.

But of course she caught on, stopping in to see him when he was at Roman's once to check up on him. Only for his parents, and Roman himself, to say that they haven't seen Adam for however long he was gone for. Every time he would come home his friends would yell at him, aunt shaking him (and gripping his head and holding him to her chest as she squeezed him with all her might), and neighbours scolding him for worrying everyone.

It never stopped him from going on another one, and another one... and another. His aunt had started calling them his "vacation time," she started to get used to him fucking off for a week. But only a week, and only as long as he called her every few days so that she knew he was still alive. She was the one the suggested that he should go backpacking around Europe before going off to College.

And he was... when ever he finished this year. He had been trying to convince Roman in coming with. But that wasn't going to happen anymore. If anything he'd just go alone. He could go right now if he really wanted to. He always carried his passport, after years of just disappearing for days he always just... carried it. All his ID (health card, passport, drivers license) was always on him... just in case one didn't work and he had to have another one.

He could go buy a ticket and fuck off to... to Germany. His aunt wouldn't file a missing persons report until near the end of the second day of no contact. And he'd be out of here by then, hopefully over seas and... and just being free.

He'll be leaving a huge paper trail, but it wasn't as if honestly cared all that much about it. It'll show that he's still alive and well—its when the trail stops that people should be worried.

He handed the cabbie the cash and took off towards the nearest bank machine. He's gonna do it, he's gonna disappear. Drop off the face of the Earth for awhile and maybe come back as a better person. Maybe one that cares about all the worry that he'd caused everyone. Maybe even come back fixed. Come back happy and without that urge to make himself bleed. Maybe he could act like a proper son for his aunt... for him Mum.

"**Adam's gone"** her mother's name at the top of the convo. Blake stared down at the phone, teeth capturing her lips and pressing down as she stared at those two words. Its been two days since she had seen Adam in the halls, where he stared at her for a moment before walking away. She should've been the one to talk to him those many days ago when this all fell apart. **"The last thing any of us heard of him was that picture that he sent," **the next message had came in.

It was a picture of the inside of a passenger plane and message that can with it was "see you whenever. Love you." Clair, Adam's aunt, had fallen into her mother's arms that evening. She clutched at her shoulder and wailed. Blake had sat at the top of the stairs watching the two women slowly lower themselves to the ground, she had watched them sit there for hours as Clair bawled. So unsure of what to do, and so over come with worry. Blake's mother was at a loss as well, only able to hold onto her friend and glance up at Blake with anger in her gaze.

Adam was an asshole, an uncaring asshole who couldn't think about the feelings of others—or just didn't care about their feelings. Blake was hurt, she was angry...

But more than anything, she was confused. How could he just up and leave like nothing? Wasn't he scared? Did he really hate them all that much that he had to fly away from them?

She had started sitting with Adam's friends at lunch, her friends tagged along with her. The Corner Kids Crew was missing a member, and the whole school knew the story. Or at least knew some pieces of it. The rumours where that Adam and them had a fight and he ran away. The other was that he was admitted into the suicide ward (those were the ones that had seen glimpses of the bandages under his shirts). A truth ran in both of them, and that's what stung more than anything else. The Corner Kids Crew and Team RWBY were hurting, and that's one thing that everyone knew.


End file.
